The Arrows of the Heart Read online

  Which meant I would make a good spy, if I had the inclination. Not that I did.

  “Salena’s dolls that she left you three,” Rayfe was saying, as if just remembering. “The one she left Amelia changed color in the presence of Tala blood. But I thought she got it back from Kir.”

  “She did—right at the same time he disappeared. Presumably to work with Deyrr, as Jepp saw him in the entertainment salons at the Imperial Palace in Dasnaria with the High Priestess of Deyrr.”

  Again, they all looked at me. “How does that fit with your assertion that no honorable family would have dealings with Deyrr?” Rayfe asked me.

  I didn’t know. Covering my shock, I held up my hands in Zyr’s gesture of innocent ignorance. “I was only at the Imperial Palace twice,” I told them. “And when I wasn’t in the Imperial Seraglio, I was at formal events and occupied with matters of my marriage or lack thereof.” Or in my cell, waiting to be burned for having the gall to request an annulment. Where that courage had come from, I had no idea. It would be nice to have some of it now. “I wasn’t in Jepp’s confidence, nor would a woman of my station and status have been allowed into the entertainment salons. I only ever saw the High Priestess when she attacked High Queen Ursula on the Hákyrling. I didn’t know she had any association with His Imperial Majesty.”

  Rather than satisfied, they seemed disappointed. Rather, the queen and king did. Zyr watched me contemplatively.

  Andi sighed, sitting up straight again. “Well, in the absence of more information—and as Ursula is unlikely to send anyone back to Dasnaria to spy again—we have to assume that Kir somehow taught the practitioners of Deyrr how to detect Tala partbloods.”

  “Ash has been concerned for some time that the partblood ex-convicts he’d been working to succor in hiding and repatriate to Annfwn were disappearing suspiciously,” Rayfe put in.

  Andi frowned at him. “I thought you held the opinion that they didn’t trust us as king and queen, and me in particular as holder of the barrier. That they’d simply gone deeper into hiding—something made easier since Ursula gave them legal status and eliminated the hunting of them.”

  “A logical conclusion, and that could account for some of it—but that was before I knew all of this.”

  “Glorianna curse Kir if this is so,” Andi growled, the air stirring around her once more. She must have been regaining her strength. “Even in his misguided zeal to eliminate the Tala, how could he stomach betraying us to attack by the Dasnarians?”

  I understood her sense of betrayal. That sort of thing would be an immediate death sentence in Dasnaria. It should’ve been here, too. Impatience gathered in me for their naiveté. “But so many of these sleepers,” I put in, judicious in my phrasing. “How many dead here today? And in the fish-bird attack, there were dozens and dozens of them.”

  Zyr frowned at me—at first I thought for my temerity, but I realized he was nodding thoughtfully. “And how are they subdued, transported with no one knowing, in such great numbers? It makes no sense to squander so many here today simply as a test…”

  “Unless they have many more in reserve,” Rayfe finished. “I don’t see what they gained today, however. Especially since we defeated them handily.”

  “Did you?” I’d spoken too sharply, even contemptuously, my question too preemptory, given their expressions. I heard my father, my brothers, even Kral in my tone. Unforgivable to have forgotten myself in such a way. Sitting on the sand on a lovely beach, one forgets that one is with royalty. “I apologize,” I said, ducking my gaze, my face hot.

  “Don’t,” Zyr said.

  “I agree,” Rayfe put in. “Explain.”

  Andi touched my arm, her fingers soft, her eyes hard. “We value your insights. You know how your people view wars of this kind. We’ve been so long fighting each other in close quarters over mostly irrelevant, endlessly shifting borders that our strategy is not the same.”

  I hadn’t thought of it that way. She—they—had a generosity and flexibility in their willingness to entertain new ideas. I’d have to mull that over.

  “Yes, you won today,” I said. Zyr raised a brow at me, and I started over. “We won—if you want to call repelling a very small force at great cost a victory. Queen Andromeda, you cut the ties to their magic, and now the practitioners of Deyrr know you can. The Emperor has had little intelligence about your realms before this. No matter what you believe about his divinity, he is a great strategist who’s added many kingdoms and protectorates to his empire. His Imperial Majesty will see it as critical to assess your abilities to defend yourselves, so he can determine what an overwhelming force will be. You suspect the Emperor is working hand-in-hand with Deyrr? If so, then they could’ve had people observing this attack. They’d know it exhausted Queen Andromeda to defeat just this many.”

  Andi’s gaze sharpened. “Can they do that—observe from a distance?”

  “I don’t know—but why not? You can, as you’ve told us. I never knew people could magically detach souls from their bodies or shapeshift into mythical creatures. My not knowing didn’t make it impossible.”

  “Point taken,” Rayfe said dryly.

  “But if they observed this battle—and if I were you I’d assume as much—then they’ll know that your, I mean, our defense is disorganized.”

  “What?” Zyr sat up from his languid pose, offended. “The Hawks responded immediately. And we arrived to help within moments. We worked together, just like you mossbacks were bitching at us to do! What?” he demanded again, this time of Rayfe, who’d clapped a hand over his face.

  I gave Zyr a cool stare. “The Hawks responded immediately because they happened to be right there, which might not have been a coincidence. And we still sustained at least two fatalities and many injuries. You—we—were far from ready. And yes, we ran to help, but what about the rest of the Tala?” I waved a hand at the cliff city. “People watched, like they found it entertaining.”

  “Things like this don’t happen much,” Zyr grumbled, sounding sheepish now. “Besides, it was only a little attack.”

  “That’s my point!” I stabbed a finger at him, aware that Rayfe and Andi listened intently. “There is no such thing as a little attack. They’ll consider the numbers. I’ve heard them. How many of them they can afford to lose to take the critical percentage of yours. You all are arrogant and complacent here. Had there been the slightest threat to my family home, it would have been crushed with massive and decisive force.”

  “You Dasnarians live constantly at war,” he sneered. “That’s hardly any way to live.”

  “Perhaps so,” I shot back, “but when it comes to war, guess who’ll have more practice.”

  Rayfe nodded and stood, uncoiling rapidly enough that I momentarily perceived him as shapeshifting, even though he remained a man. “This is my fault,” he announced. “And my responsibility to repair.”

  Andi made a sound of impatience, fluidly rising to her own feet and ignoring her husband’s move to help her. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she started, but he cut her off with a fierce look.

  “Karyn is right. Arrogant and complacent. We’ve been so long accustomed to our insularity, the protection of the barrier, happy to be ignored, forgotten, even reviled for the privacy it afforded us. So focused on protecting our backs from Uorsin that we sit here and treat an attack on our soil as entertainment. Allowing the Hawks to do the lion’s share of the work.” He focused on Zyr. “You say we worked with them, but not really. We need to drill together, to coordinate our forces.”

  “In all fairness,” I put in, “Lieutenant Tays made the decision for the Hawks to train alone this morning.”

  He looked slightly less fierce when he nodded thanks to me, but his jaw remained tightly set. “I am king here. I lead the forces of Annfwn, not him. From now on, I decide how our forces work and train together. I should’ve been out here this morning.”

  “We had strategy to determine. Ursula’s plans to set in motion,” Andi reminded him.
“Contingency plans. Unexpected developments.” Her eyes flicked to Zyr and away.

  “Nevertheless.” Rayfe brushed all that off like a wolf shedding water. “I’m calling a Gathering.”

  Zyr’s brows rose, but Andi looked confused. “What’s that?”

  Rayfe laughed, without humor, and shook his head. “How far we’ve descended that the Queen of the Tala doesn’t know what a Gathering is.”

  “I’ll remind you that I didn’t grow up in Annfwn,” she said tartly.

  “This is on me, not you,” he replied, taking her hand and giving her a fierce smile. “Let me put it this way: the last Gathering was when I called all the Tala together to recruit a fighting force to come after you, when we defeated Ordnung and laid siege to Windroven.”

  “Oh,” she murmured. “I’ve never seen so many Tala since then. I’ve wondered if I misremembered or if you made your army look bigger with illusion and supplementing with staymachs.”

  Rayfe’s grin went wolfish, mirrored by Zyr. “Oh, we have all sorts of tricks, my queen. You will see.”

  “And I have tricks of my own this time,” she returned.

  He sobered. “I know I can’t tell you not to risk yourself, but Karyn saw that clearly, too. Defeating this small force knocked you to your knees.”

  “I was learning, and unprepared. I’ll do better next time.”

  “It’s more than you and the child,” he said, with some layered meaning beneath. “We know what they’re after. It must be kept safe.”

  Andi cut her gaze to me and away again. “It will be,” she replied shortly. “I’m working on it.”

  Ah. Something they didn’t trust me knowing. Another woman might’ve been hurt by their distrust, but it reassured me that they weren’t being completely stupid. A true Dasnarian spy would love to unearth a secret of that apparent magnitude. If I obtained enough useful information, took advantage of their confidences, I could likely parlay my way back into His Imperial Majesty’s good graces. The unexpected possibility took my breath away. I could be forgiven, perhaps even rewarded with rank, even a true marriage. I could go home, marry a Dasnarian man and raise my children as I’d been raised.

  I could have certainty again, not this strange friendship with a half-wild man. Studying Zyr from the corner of my eye, I suddenly felt terribly confused. I’d always known where my loyalties lay. Now I wasn’t at all sure.

  “How soon will you call the Gathering, King Rayfe?” Zyr was asking with unusual gravity and courtesy.

  “Tomorrow morning should give everyone who can time to arrive,” Rayfe replied. “But you will not be here. You and Karyn have your mission.”

  “Silly mapsticks, imaginary dragons, and unfindable n’Andana aren’t important now,” Zyr protested. “Not if you’re calling a Gathering.”

  “Your mission is still critical,” Rayfe replied implacably. He slid a glance at me. “We learned from today, too. And we know now that need help more than ever.”

  “But n’Andana? It’s dead and gone.”

  “We once thought that about Annfwn,” Andi pointed out. “Entire realms don’t disappear. They’re simply forgotten—sometimes through deliberate action. Moranu only knows what we might find there.”

  “Probably a landscape full of giant skeletons since the dragons all died!” Zyr waved his hands in the air.

  “Not all of them,” Rayfe answered. “Kiraka lives. There’s one under Windroven that Marskal and Zynda will hopefully recruit for us. But if today was simply a test, we’ll need more allies than that.”

  “Besides, not all of the n’Andanans shapeshifted into dragon form. It sounds like very few achieved that level. It doesn’t follow that all the people died. Only those that needed magic to survive,” Andi replied.

  “Then where have they been?” Zyr demanded, sounding as if he thought he’d scored a point.

  “Hiding,” she replied crisply. “Just like the Tala used to do.”

  Rayfe snorted. “We weren’t hiding, we kept to ourselves for good reason.”

  Andi rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. The n’Andanans are the ancient enemy of Deyrr. They’ll have a stake in this war, perhaps critical information and assistance to offer.”

  “Oh, right.” Zyr curled up a lip. “They’re just weak mossbacks that rolled over and gave up their magic rather than fight Deyrr long ago. Now we’re going to ask them to help us?”

  “First we need to find them,” Rayfe said. “They left the mapsticks in the library at Nahanau so n’Andana could be found.”

  Zyr snorted. “Pure speculation.”

  “Maybe you’re not capable,” Rayfe countered. “If so, tell me now.”

  “I’m capable,” Zyr ground out. “I’m fine.”

  “Karyn?” he asked me, more gently.

  “I stand ready to assist, Your Highness.” I bowed a little, feeling I needed to, if only to compensate for Zyr’s lack of courtesy. At least I’d already decided to do this quest. It would give me time to think.

  “Good. I expect you both to start immediately. Check in every couple of days.”

  Every couple of days? Wait. I couldn’t go off unchaperoned with a man—especially one of Zyr’s lascivious nature. We’d have to spend nights together. I had to refuse. I’d take any other assignment…

  Andi caught my eye, that seeing-through-me expression in her gray gaze, reading my refusal clearly. Her expression reminding me of our conversation. I understood. All too clearly. They’d assigned Zyr to get me out of there. This time the mistrust did wound me, perhaps all the more because I knew I deserved it. Worse, I hated that Zyr had been made my keeper.

  I supposed, however, that I’d brought this on myself. I’d known that by leaving Dasnaria I’d be turning myself over to the whims of hlyti, perhaps to my own destruction.

  Rayfe and Andi watched me closely, seeming to be waiting for my concession. Gracious of them, as they could simply command me. I curtseyed, this time deeply, as much to hlyti as to their willful goddesses. “As you command,” I said, hearing the bitter edge to my own voice and hoping no one else did.

  It must’ve been everything that had happened so far, but only then did it occur to me that I’d have to try flying again.

  “Maybe if we didn’t have to start by plummeting off a cliff,” I suggested to Zyr, who only raised that raptorish brow at me.

  “We didn’t plummet off a cliff before,” he explained slowly, as if I might be dense. “A controlled drop is necessary for some kinds of animals to fly. Those too heavy to launch from the ground on wing power alone.”

  “Like the gríobhth.”

  “Like the gríobhth, yes—especially with the extra weight of you on my back.” He had that tone of exaggerated patience that made me want to kick him. “Now, if you’re ready, I’ll shift and we’ll go.”

  We stood outside his apartments where I’d met him after changing clothes and gathering supplies. He’d selected a dozen or so mapsticks he thought mostly likely represented the coast of Annfwn and nearby islands and packed the rest in saddle bags. I’d wanted to catalog all the map-sticks first, mark them somehow. Zyr nixed that idea, too. To appease Rayfe he’d wanted to get at least one or two flights in before sunset and insisted we could start with the “low-hanging fruit.” If he had to miss the Gathering, he wanted to be doing something. He also insisted that my procrastinating on flying again would only allow my fear to entrench.

  It seemed pretty well entrenched to me already. My gut had gone to water at the sight of the drop below. “Maybe a different form then,” I suggested. “One that does have the wing power to—”

  “That’s the only form I have that can carry a grown person,” he cut me off, clearly irritated with my balking. “Most shapeshifters don’t even have that. My sister can’t, for all her other skills, so you should appreciate me. Why do you think I even shared the gríobhth form with you?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask you to, nor did I ask for this assignment.”

 
; “That makes two of us,” he snapped. In my mind, I saw him as the gríobhth with its sharply curved beak taking a piece out of me.

  “Don’t be mean to me,” I warned him. I meant to sound sharp, to vent my own fear and frustration—and, yes, hurt that no one here trusted me. I shouldn’t have left home. All the turbulent emotions undermined my determination, and the words came out more like a plea, all watery and sad.

  Wren had died in the attack. Though I didn’t know her well, her death dug at me. She’d been kind. Maybe she could’ve been a friend, if I’d known how to accept her overtures and small kindnesses. Only the fact that I knew she’d have been the first to tell me to get busy and do what I could to stop other deaths had me still going.

  Zyr’s fierce glare melted into remorse. He took a step toward me, hands out as if to embrace me, then curled his fingers into impotent fists he dropped to his sides. “Nothing is going right today,” he hissed.

  “Tell that to the people who died down there,” I flung at him, pointing at the beach where teams of Hawks and shapeshifters worked to remove the nastily melting carcasses of the Deyrr creatures.

  To my astonishment, Zyr laughed. Not his big-bellied joyful one, but in quiet chagrin. “You would bring that up. And before you yell at me again, you’re right. I’m being an ass.”

  “I didn’t yell at you.” Had I? My mother would be horrified at such a lapse. “Today is a terrible day,” I agreed. “So much has happened—and I know you’re worried about Zynda on top of it all.”

  “See? This is what comes of getting up early.” He nodded at me, probably in an attempt to look wise, but his irreverent humor leaked through. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry for it, but we have to do this. I have to fly you out of here and this is the only way I can do it.”